The Awkward Kind
by It'sTimeToDance
Summary: She was not Juliet, and he was not her Romeo.
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: She is not Juliet, and he is not her Romeo. _

Prologue: Soliloquy

She is not beautiful.

She is not graceful, nor majestic, nor lovely in a way exceptional. She is not very smart, nor witty.

She has plain brown hair, and plain brown eyes, and an otherwise average figure.

She is not rich, and she is not poor. She is not tragic, she is not haunted.

She just simply _is._

She lives in a town where her father works, and she goes to a school where she does not care to know anyone. There is nothing about her that would set her apart. You see a face no different from any other. You see clothes that don't call for attention. Dull, indifferent eyes stare back at you

She is a girl who--by no fault of her own--exist in a bubble of her own familiarity. She wakes up every morning, and she falls asleep every night. She has never missed her curfew. Her parents feel little need to discipline.

She knows little of the Greasers and the Socs, and she has never bothered herself with this fact. She finds is ridiculous.  
She simply does not care.

She lives in a house that is not too big, nor too small. It has three bedrooms, and one bathroom, and three hallways with pictures of her early years hanging limply by rusty nails in the wall.

They were not feuding, as they had nothing to fight about. They never expected to fall in love. They were just victims of circumstance.

Her name is Lisa, not Juliet, and his was not Romeo. Hers was never a story worth telling until she met him. Even now, as you read this, it is not remarkable. It is simply a small dot in the timeline of history. No one years from this moment will care about her awkward high school romance, or in the manner that they went about it. Lisa Stipe and Ponyboy Curtis are not important to the world.

Love. She was in love. Deeply, truly in love.

Love. She knew, rarely ended happily


	2. Chapter 2

**First Weeks and Glances**

_"As I stood there beside myself  
I could see you and no one else"_

* * *

School bells ring, and students shuffle to class. It is the daily order of things, and it drives me crazy.

I held my pack tightly against my shoulder, keeping my books locked closely to my chest as I dodged through the onslaught of teenagers. Sixth period. Nice.

I tried to see past the bucking, bouncing heads of my classmates, but it was a lost battle, seeing as I hadn't grown an inch since fifth grade. I was lost in a sea of seniors, I realized, with greasy hair and dirty t-shirts. How did I get down this hallway?

Biology. Where was the biology lab? All I could see was the bottom corners of lockers and the scuffed boots of those in front of me. I was shoved in the back, and I could barely keep my books in hand. A man with a booming, guttural voice screamed in my ear, telling me to move it.

God, school started a week ago. How could I possibly get _lost?_

Biology...biology...so many rooms. How does anybody find anything?

I ducked my head between my shoulders and searched for a familiar face...or a map...or an exit.

My hair fell into my face, and all I saw was a veil of mousy brown as I stumbled over a pair of white, spoiled tennis shoes. He said something to me in a harsh tone, but I could hardly hear it over the ruckus of the in-between bell ruckus. I snaked myself in between heavyset torsos until I found a bit of free air. A small alcove, with a square, miniature window was awkwardly placed on the center of the wall, like the kind you'd find in jail. I looked out at the cloudy, grey skies, and felt myself mourning summer.

The warning bell rang, and I panicked. You'd think the hallways would clear by now.

My pack slipped down my shoulders and, for a moment, I honestly felt like I was going to throw up.

"_Oh!" _I yelped, as I felt a heavy set of feet slide under my ankles. The floor rushed at me, and before I could hit it, a pair of hands looped around my elbow and pulled me to my feet in one fluid, easy motion. My heart pounded in my chest, and my cheeks flushed before I even looked up, "Thanks...wow, thanks..."

" 'S no problem," a voice said, "you okay?"

I glanced at the boy's face. He didn't look much older then me, with light brown hair and green eyes, almost grey in the dim lighting. He had a slight smile on his face, more for greeting then anything else. I pushed my hair out of my face, "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine, thanks."

He glanced at the clocks that hung where no one could reach them, "Yeah, you don't wanna stand in the middle of the hallway. Kind of like walking into a battle zone or somethin', you know?"

My lips twitched, and stretched into a smile, "Uh, well...I just got lost."

"Yeah? Where you goin'?"

Where was I going? I racked my brain for the answer.

"Uh, Mr. Kennedy. Biology."

He seemed amused, "That's...no where near here. Like, on the complete opposite end of the school."

The crowds were like waves, and they pushed me and pulled me wherever the majority went. It was a bit frightening. I wanted to say as much, but all I could choke out was, "Oh."

The last bell rang, and he started to inch away, "Jeez, I gotta go. Just keep taking lefts until you get to the red lockers. It'll be right there."

My eyes widened for whatever reason, and I spent an entire minute watching him jog away, past a corner, and disappear. I figured I was already late.

"Left," I whispered, scurrying towards the nearest hallway, "left, left..."

* * *

I've never been good in English. I don't like to read, and I don't like to write. I'm not good at it either. That last book I'd read was two hundred pages, and it took me a month. I can't spell for shit, and I hated listening to monologues with words I didn't understand, about people I didn't care about. My mother hated this. She constantly questioned my state of mind, oblivious to the idea that someone--dear God, no!--might not enjoy reading small text for hours on end. It caused for much friction at times, though it seemed an idiotic thing to be upset about.

I walked into English, though, the last period of the day, with my shoulders slumped and mood dampened. I had previously spent the last fourty-five minutes playing basketball with girls three feet taller then me, with long, tan legs and equally long, yellow hair. I was in no mood.

I was, surprisingly, early to class, and took a seat in the second to last row. I'd learned that, in cases such as this, the back row was the most hazardess of places to go when trying to avoid attention.

As students filed in, I tapped my fingers against the desktop. A girl sat in front of me, with bright blonde hair and tits the size of her head. My own hair fell down to the bottom of my neck, with bangs that unrelentingly hung like string over my face.

Two boys with pastel madras and devilish grins walked by my desk, one of them plopping down on the desk top of the girl in front of me. Their lips locked in almost the same motion, as though this were a routine in some kind of play that they've memorized. I leaned back against my chair, and tried to look somewhere else.

Had they done that last week? God, it's only the second week of school and already everything's a blur.

"Can I sit here?"

I jumped, and my neck nearly snapped when I whipped it towards the side. Green grey eyes stared back at me, and A choked back a yelp. The boy from the hall.

"Oh, yeah, yeah...sure, yeah," I stuttered, though they're really was nothing to be nervous about. Why had I not _remembered _he was in my class?

He raised his eyebrow, and sat down in the seat beside me.

"So'd you find Kennedy okay?" he asked off-handedly after a moment, flipping open his notebook and glancing at the board.

I looked down at my own notebook, "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

He wrote something on a lined piece of paper, chicken scratch letters that were hardly legible.

I bended the corner of my paper, watching the door, waiting for the teacher to stop the chaotic whooping and shoving happening at the edges of the room. I drummed a slight beat against the edges, so quietly I could hardly hear it. Why do I not remember any of this from the previous week? Why did it feel like I'd never even stepped into this school before?

"I'm Lisa, by the way," I said suddenly, surprised by how slow my voice sounded. Like I was underwater.

One side of his mouth twitched into a smile, and he turned his head towards me, "I'm Ponyboy."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the name was like a roadblock. Pony...boy? Like a baby horse?

He found this amusing, chuckling lightly, "Yeah, I get that alot."

"No," I said, shaking my head, "no, I mean, no...I didn't mean..."

The door opened, and in stomped the teacher, with his shoulders squared and his books held loosely at his side. The ghost of laughter still lingered on his face, with light creases on his forehead and the corners of his lips still perked up. At least _he _was happy, I thought, he's getting _paid _to be here.

"Sit down. You two, find your seats. Bell rings, I have to teach," he barked, pointing at two boys shoving each other into a set of desk, beckoning them towards the back.

He began to speak, and his words drifted into the background for me, like English lectures usually do. My eyes twitched towards Ponyboy, who was possitively rigid, though these words the teacher spoke were from God himself.

What a day.

* * *

**Author's Note: I actually tried pretty hard to make this as not Mary-Sue-ish as possible. I don't know if I'm overdoing it, let me know.**

**Thanks to whatcoloristhesky for putting up with my misunderstanding of words and spelling :P**


	3. AN

Hey, guys. Sorry I haven't updated anything in...well, in a while. I've taken a break from writing for a while. I'm starting my freshman year of high school this year, and I really need to get my shit together. This is gonna be mass-posted, so I'll post my individual messages for each story:

The Unfortunate Truth: I started this when I was twelve, so needless to say I've grown a bit since then. I do have the entire things plotted out in my head, and one day I do intend to finish, but for now consider this on indefinite hold.

Gone Baby Gone: This one I actually almost finished with. I typed most of it on my friend's computer, so it might take a while to get to it...but still. I'll get there.

It's Kind of a Funny Story: I feel really guilty about this one, because I promised myself I'd finish it...Anyway. I'll probably finish this during my next fanfiction binge.

Invasion: I SHOULD BE DOING THIS! This was meant as a comic relief, something to do when I'm bored...I'm bored SO OFTEN! I SHOULD WORK ON THIS! Feel free to cyber-smack me.

Soliloquy: I seriously wrote all the stories for this but, again, on friend's computer.

Playing With Fire: Consider this one up for adoption.

Remaining: Will finish during next binge. I actually like this one.

A Comedy of Errors: No one seems to care much for this one, so consider it dropped till further notice.

The Awkward Kind: Not feeling this one, I have to say. I pictured in my head a John Hughes like angsty romance with a tragic end, but, well...I'm not John Hughes.

No Such Things: This is completly out of my comfort zone and I have no idea why I started it. Up for adoption.

Also, I have a few stories in the works...all Twilight, aparently. Two are AU and one's a three-shot for New Moon. Again, I consider fanfiction like drinking: if your not addicted, you only do it when your unhappy. I am not addicted, and I'm pretty content at the moment. As you all know, I tend to have time periods where I update at a ridiculous pace, and then long stretches of time where I do nothing. Rest assured, however, I will not be content forever and as soon as I'm engulfed in an overwhelming wave of depression, most of these stories will be updated, if not finished. And I will post the new stories I have for Twilight. And we will all live happily every after.

The End


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